How do we know it’s Christmas? Let me count the ways. We know 25/12 is fast approaching when celebrities begin peddling their bottled non-scents on television screen and off magazine cover. Ye shall know it’s Christmas when queues to access the basics of life everywhere, i.e., banks and post offices, supermarket checkouts and loos lengthen to proportions not seen since the days of Iron Curtain rationing and all while electronic carols jingle merrily in the background.
Ye shall know it’s Christmas when the most banal of merchandise acquires, by virtue of a twist of foil wrapping paper and a sprig of holly, a decided aura of magic, when the super-brands’ mini-movies begin to air on TV, when criminally slender models extol the virtues of rich and creamy chocolate, when designer-dressed party-makers imbibe on alcoholic brew, yet remain upright enough to dance the night away.
We know it’s Christmas when every hit tune for the past five decades is dredged up and served as a component in a compilation album, e.g., The Twenty Best Soft-Shoe Shuffle Hits, Twenty Songs For Granny To Rave To, Twenty Orchestrations For The Dog To Howl At, and ye shall know that Yuletide is upon us when the sanest of citizens begins to prance about in red and white, fluffy Santa hats, when the whole world becomes an insane cauldron of buying and selling, eating and drinking, boozing, carousing or simply snoozing off the toxic after-effects. Whichever part you play, have a wonderful, wonderful, time.
Posts